It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year


I have to type quietly because it’s late at night.

Well, it’s late at night somewhere. It’s actually just around noon here in Belfast. I’m trying to be polite to the weirdoes who live in the unnatural time zones outside of proper Greenwich Meantime. This is real time people. And it’s not simply my opinion, its scientific fact.

Anyway, things are great here in Belfast! I’m having the absolute time of my life this holiday season. The shopping crowds are polite and ever so pleasant with ne’er a small child screaming his fool head off–though I did get caught rolling my eyes at an elderly gentleman who blocked the cookie aisle at Sainsbury’s recently. His daughter saw me and instantly busted my balls in the rude way common to so many people around here:

HER: Pardon me. If you say excuse me, he’ll move!

ME: Wind yer neck in, thunder twat! Yer away in the head, ya minger!

After a small scuffle and exchange of comments derisive of each others alleged cause of red-headedness and too-close eyes we discovered that deep down inside we were all just simple humans and we all had a good, festive, hardy laugh and parted ways the best of friends with sincere wishes of Holiday Cheer. And that’s what Christmas is all about!

HO HO HO! Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, Festivus or whatever!

Hi. Wayne here. I know none of you are buying this turd polishing. You know as well as I do that if you ran the phrase, ‘Things are great here in Belfast’ through the Bullshit Translator on Google it would read more correctly as:

I’m one, very small, snide comment away from filleting my portly boar of a boss with a dull, rusty butter knife and pissing up his nostrils while I steal his watch.

I’m saying nice things on the outside because that’s what you do this time of year, but I speak them with a soulless grin and a twitchy trigger finger. My current work situation, combined with the stress of moving and other not so niceties is creating high octane mental fuel and if I don’t find a solution very, very soon I’m not sure I’ll be able to manage a controlled release, if you know what I’m saying.

Life, if it has taught me anything, it’s taught me never to burn my bridges. Mainly because I can’t afford to now that I’m a responsible home owner, goddamn it.

So, let’s all forget everything I’ve just said. I mean, I love you all. No, really!

Especially you, Thunder Twat!



  1. And for a few seconds I actually believed you were sincere. I know it’s in you somewhere…. the spirit of Christmas. There will be a spot at the table for you come the 25th.

    Your friend,


  2. I feel your pain pal. I don’t hate Christmas, but the screaming spoiled brats, people cutting in front of one another , traffic (You know, people running 80mph in a 35mph zone, running red lights, and the like.), and the general bitching and whining, doesn’t help my attitude towards the whole thing any. 🙂

  3. I see that you’ve been having entirely to much fun since I’ve been away.

    Just get the boss’ email address and sign him up for some spam mail….it’ll make you feel better and he can never trace it back to you AND – the coup de gra (or whatever) you will get the pleasure of knowing you can aggrevate the crap out of him a little at the time, every single day – with spam mail.

    …your welcome.

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